The Shadows
by shakeitsalome
Summary: Legends abound of modern-day Robin Hoods that appear at night. They slay the foot soldiers of The Establishment and rescue those being mistreated. No one knows their names. But everyone knows they're out there. Watching. AU
1. Chapter One

Chapter One –

No one ever dreamed we would lose the war.

No one ever thought the _bad guys_ would win. Or that, possibly, we were the bad guys.

Even at our lowest, when our soldiers were outnumbered, our leaders had gone into hiding, our children defending their homes with the guns of the fallen, we thought we would persevere. When the order was given to release prisoners if they promised to fight we were scared but we thought we would win.

Until it happened.

_It_.

We huddled around TVs; we crowded around radios. We watched the news anchors and listened to the radio commentators deliver the final blow to our confidence.

_"We have just learned the President has ceded to the demands of..."_

Most called him a coward. Some called him a traitor. A few called him smart.

There was hope that things would get better. With no war, there could be a rebuilding of the country, a renaissance, much like after the second World War. We waited for the boon. We anticipated more jobs. Better pay. The good schools that had been closed down would open again. Our children would learn more than firearm safety and air raid drills.

The boon we waited for never came.

Those with money – the ones who had been smart and converted their fortune to gold and silver – fared best. Money begets power begets more money begets more power.

The ones in charge call themselves The Establishment. They've taken our land, our homes. They've raped, pillaged, and murdered in the name of the Greater Good. Whoever tries to fight is killed on the spot if they're lucky. The unlucky go to prison.

Given the choice, many would rather die.

There have been some who continue to fight. Legends abound of modern-day Robin Hoods that appear at night. They slay the foot soldiers of The Establishment and rescue those being mistreated. Then they steal away into the night. Into the shadows that have become the friend of those who refuse to bend.

No one knows their names. But everyone knows they're out there.

Watching.

Waiting.

* * *

The bindings on her wrists burned her flesh, but Amara Turner continued to pull at them. From the opposite corner she could hear the chuckle of the man. The sound made her stomach roil; her celebratory dinner earlier was now a regret. Jerking on the ropes, she cried out in frustration when they refused to budge.

"I love it when they fight." His voice was greasy, much like the used car salesmen her grandparents had once told her about. Slick, as though he could sell a plot of swamp land in Arizona to an unsuspecting customer.

Except this man was no salesman. He was a soldier, unless he had stolen the uniform he wore. He was pot-bellied, balding, and missing three of his front teeth. His tongue was as slimy as his voice and just the memory of his unwanted kiss made her gag. He smelled of cigarettes and liquor, and she could still taste the copper of his blood. She was glad she had bitten him even if it had resulted in a knee to the stomach.

"Such a pretty thing. I think I'll keep you around for a while." He advanced; the bare bulb swinging from the ceiling highlighted his pale face. Standing at the foot of the bed he licked his lips, grubby fingers unbuttoning the uniform jacket.

Amara grimaced. She knew what was going to happen. She'd heard the stories, seen the results when she'd done her rounds in the hospital. If she was lucky, he would kill her. She felt his hands on her ankles, making sure she was strapped down. The bed creaked, mattress dipping, as he climbed over her. The stench of his breath made her turn her head. _Kill me_, she thought, struggling beneath him.

"That's right, keep fighting. Make me work for it." He was laughing as he slapped her. Clammy hands pushed at her skirt, ragged nails scratching at her thighs. Amara closed her eyes, fighting nausea as she felt him settle between her legs.

She gave up her struggles when he pushed her thighs further apart. If he was going to do it, there was no way she could stop him. She focused on the burn of the ropes at her ankles and wrists. The steady thrum of rain on the roof. Anything but what he was going to do. The musty stench of the one-room shack. Opening her eyes she watched the light bulb, still swinging, cast shadows on the far wall. He'd left a cigarette burning in the ashtray and its smoke curled towards the ceiling.

The sharp pain of teeth in her flesh forced her attention back to him. The underside of her left breast throbbed in agony and she cried out.

"Go ahead. I want to hear you scream." Blood was on his lower lip. Her blood. Beads of perspiration trickled down his forehead, and revulsion welled up again when he loomed over her. His shirt was gone. "No one's going to hear you."

She pressed her lips together to keep from screaming, giving one more futile tug at her bounds when he began to unzip his pants. She couldn't see what he was doing but got the idea when she saw his arm moving in short, rapid thrusts. Then his hand was on her, clumsily yanking at her panties.

Even though he wanted it, even though she didn't want to give in, she screamed. She heard his pleased laugh, felt hot tears well in her eyes. And she waited for the inevitable.

He made a strange gasping sound. His body lurched then began to slump. Opening her eyes, Amara stared as he fell to the side. With the brunt of his weight over her thigh she could do nothing but look on as blood began to seep from his chest.

A gloved hand rested on his shoulder, pushing him to the floor. She slowly looked up to see a dark-haired man, dressed in black. The sword in his hand was smeared with blood. His lips were set in a grim line as he dropped the sword. Without speaking, he drew a knife from his belt and leaned to cut the ropes at her ankles. Rain drops glittered in his hair. When he turned to do the same to her wrists she saw the hair on the right side of his head was a contrasting blonde.

Once free, she scrambled back on the bed, numb fingers pulling her skirt down. There was blood on her leg. His?

From the floor came a gurgling noise, the scrape of metal against concrete. The man by the bed sighed and bent over. Still silent, he raised the knife then plunged it down. The resulting silence was welcome. He straightened, wiping the blade of his knife on the dirty sheet before tucking it away.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded, struck dumb by his actions, and he moved to look at the items scattered over the small table.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He didn't acknowledge the words, picking up a glass. Wiping the inside with the soldier's handkerchief, he gave it a sniff then reached for the bottle on the table. He splashed some of the liquid into the glass, paused, then added more. Crossing the room, he held out the glass. "Water."

She cupped it in both hands, watching him over the rim as she sipped. He moved with ease, barely making a sound as he rummaged through the cabinet. What was he going to do? He picked up the soldier's jacket, checking the pockets, then squatted over the dead man. Amara finished the water but held onto the glass. Just in case.

"Come on." He was upright again, stuffing something into one of the pockets of his vest. "Let's go."

Slowly, she crawled from the bed. As she stood on shaky legs, the patter of rain was all she could hear. Small holes in the tin roof allowed the rain to drip in, where it splashed against the cement flooring. In the distance there were sirens, traffic, all the sounds of the city she had once loved. But here, now, everything was blotted out by the rain.

And him.

Even the smells were gone; those horrid odors that had plagued her since she had been dragged into the shack hours before. If she breathed deeply she may find them again so she kept her inhalations shallow. The faint, musky aroma of him was almost comforting.

He was almost comforting.

Her knees buckled and he clutched at the front of his black vest out of necessity and fear. Four little words had endeared him to her, made her realize he wasn't another predator. The one who had meant harm was dead – if she could turn her head she would see his body. The thought of him, though, made her think of what had almost happened. What would have happened, were it not for...

She felt stupid for crying. She was a grown woman, after all, and should be able to handle herself. The relief was too much, though, and she held onto the front of his black vest, the rough fabric scraping her cheek. When his hand touched her shoulder she tensed and began to draw away.

"Sorry," she whispered, wiping at her eyes with her fingers. In the low light she saw him looking at her strangely.

"You're a nurse?"

Instantly her hand covered the red cross on the right side of her neck. It was a required adornment. Upon completion of studies everyone was tattooed with emblem of their chosen field. Whoever refused was not given a employment. "Not officially. I'm supposed to start tomorrow."

"But you graduated."

"Yes."

"Good." He stooped, coming back up with her shoes in one hand. "I need someone with medical knowledge."

Sensing his urgency, she hurriedly stepped into the secondhand black pumps and took the jacket he found on the floor. Hers, she realized as she pushed her arms through the sleeves. "Why?"

"A friend of mine was hurt this afternoon." He looked around before facing her again. "Will you help him?"

"How was he hurt?"

"We can talk while we move." He seemed antsy now. "If you don't want to—"

"I'll help him." She didn't object when he gently grasped her arm. At the door, she whirled around to face him. "Thank you. I don't know if I told you that or not."

"You did." He reached past her to switch out the light, casting the shack into total darkness. "What's your name?"

"Amara." She brought her jacket closer around her when he opened the door, the rain sweeping in on them. "Yours?"

"Seth."

Hand on her arm, he guided her out into the rain. Into the shadows.

A/N: Yep. I know.

Special thank you to Nikki, Lou, and Amber for their support and encouragement in writing this. And to Jojo for her ongoing enthusiasm for my work. You four ladies are the best and I love you!


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Seth led Amara through the dark alley, keeping his hand on her arm. Though he didn't rush her, she struggled to keep up with his pace. The damn shoes, he thought as she splashed through a puddle. He stopped at what appeared to be a dead end, ducking into a small space behind an empty building.

"It's alright," he told her when she hesitated. Gently tugging on her arm he squinted in the near darkness. "Stay right behind me." He waited for her affirmation. It came in the form of a nod. Turning, he stepped forward, stilling when he felt her hand creep along his sleeve until she grasped his hand.

Her grip tightened with each step she took. Her shoes weren't meant for traversing the back alleys and hidden passages. He could have taken her on a gentler route, but they would have run the risk of being spotted by soldiers. She had no bag, nothing to prove she was who she said she was. He only hoped she hadn't been chipped.

"Almost there." He kept his voice low, barely audible above the rain. A hole in the cement fence, one of the many remnants of the war, was just ahead. Seth pulled his hand free of hers and went through, gaze scanning the immediate area before turning to help her down.

She was already climbing through, though, picking her way down the rocky bank.

He shouldn't have brought her. He should have gotten her out onto the highway, made sure she got a ride home. Wherever that was. Deciding it best that he not know, he reached to help her the rest of the way.

"What is this place?" she asked, looking at the remains of the building ahead of them.

"It used to be a school." He knew that if he closed his eyes he'd see it as it had been. They were in what had been the playground. The support beams for the swings were still there. Now they were ghastly steel spikes pointing to the sky but he could remember them in their glory days. He turned to her. "My friends don't take kindly to strangers."

"How do you mean?" She pushed a lock of damp hair from her face.

"They're suspicious. If the wrong person finds us, we're all dead." He saw her quick, understanding nod.

"I'm not going to run to the soldiers and tell them about your hideout." Though her voice was soft he caught the determination. "Your friend that was hurt. What happened?"

"He had a run-in with a soldier." He began to cross the barren lot to the rear door. The other doors had been sealed shut, the windows boarded up from the inside. Anyone who glanced at the building would think it unused, falling into decay.

He looked up to the roof, saw the figure in the shadows. Making the sign so his comrade would know he was safe, he approached the door to wait. Amara followed closely, ducking beneath the overhang to get out of the rain.

"Was it the same soldier?" she asked after a moment.

Rain dripping down the back of his neck made him move closer to the door. Listening closely he was able to hear the approach of footsteps. "Yes," he finally answered. A knock sounded on the metal door and he responded in kind.

"I'm glad you killed him."

He looked to her as the door open. The shaft of light illuminated her face. Not surprised to see no remorse for the man she'd watched die, he motioned for her to enter before him. Wet shoes squeaked on the flooring as the door was closed and locked behind them. Able to relax – if only just a little – he began unbuckling his vest.

"Who's this?"

"This is Amara." Seth shook his arms to rid them of excess water. "Amara, Dean. Dean, Amara. She was with Heyman."

Dean narrowed his eyes as he looked over Amara. "Oh?"

"Not like that. She was..." The words were right there, why couldn't he say them? "She's a nurse. She said she'd help. How is he?"

"About the same." Dean sighed, glancing over his shoulder. "Nikki's with him right now. Did Heyman give you any trouble?"

"No. I caught him with his pants down." Literally. He flinched at the poor choice of words and looked to Amara. "Come on."

The hall was cold, causing goose bumps to rise on his bare arms. He led the way to what had once been the teacher's lounge. The small attached kitchen was barebones but served the needs of the group. Checking the coffee pot he was relieved to see it was relatively fresh. "Want some?"

She nodded, removing her jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. Immediately her arms folded over her chest. Seth muttered a curse as he poured the brew into a mug. He'd completely forgotten that her clothes were torn.

Dean was in the doorway, arms folded as he regarded their guest. His face was devoid of emotion; it would be impossible for anyone to try and figure out what he was thinking. Amara caught him staring and looked back, head high. He gave her a nod, obviously deciding she wasn't an immediate danger. "I'll get Nikki to bring you some clothes." His eyes met Seth's over her head. "The bleeding stopped about an hour ago."

He left them, calling out his girlfriend's name. Seth handed the mug over to Amara and filled another. He took a sip – it was bitter and strong.

"The soldier – Heyman? How did you know where to find him?" she asked after a tentative sip from her cup.

"I didn't." The small sink was filled with dirty dishes. The trash needed to be taken out. He knew without looking that the contents of the fridge were getting low. Thankfully he'd remembered to lift Heyman's credits. "He was a polished rat. He had a nice apartment in the city, a new car, a shiny uniform. But he was still a rat. I mentioned his name to a couple other rats and I was pointed in the right direction." He gulped down more coffee. "The first one had me checking down by the river. If I had trusted my instincts, I would have gotten to him quicker." He looked up to see her shiver. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you got there when you did."

"How… You probably don't want to talk about it."

Approaching footsteps kept her from replying. The door opened to reveal a woman with a tentative smile. In her arms was a selection of clothing. She placed them on the chair nearest the door then rested one hand on the swell of her abdomen, smile widening as she looked to Amara. "Dean said you were about my size. I brought a larger shirt though, just in case. Seth, get out so she can change and take care of Roman."

Knowing better than to defy her orders, Seth moved towards the door. As soon as he was within her reach, Nikki grabbed his arm. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for coming back in one piece."

"I live to keep you happy." He patted her hand, leaned to kiss her forehead.

"Bullshit but I'll take it. Now go."

He almost gave her a mock salute but refrained. Now wasn't the time for levity. So he gave a curt nod and left, pulling the door shut. Counting to five in his head, he nodded just as she began questioning Amara.

* * *

The man lying on the bed was pale, despite his olive coloring. Amara gave her head a shake to clear her mind of her own worries and approached, wishing for brighter lights. "How long has he been like this?" she asked, looking across to Seth.

"Couple hours. Give or take."

She nodded as she carefully removed the gauze pads that had been placed over the wound at the man's shoulder. Hands shaking, she looked for a place to dispose of them. "Knife wound?"

"Gunshot."

The bandages fell to the floor. "Oh god," she whispered, backing away from the bedside.

"What's wrong?"

Hand over her mouth, she stared at the hole in the man's shoulder. There was a small trickle of blood coming from the wound and she could see a dried trail a few inches over. At some point he'd been lying down. She felt bile rise in her throat and turned, stumbling from the room.

Seth was right behind her, hands catching her shoulders before she could go far. Spinning her around, he held her against the wall. "I need you to save him."

"I can't," Amara gasped, shuddering. "He needs a hospital with proper equipment and trained doctors to make sure there's no critical damage."

"If he goes to a hospital, they'll kill him." He pushed her tighter against the wall, forcing her to look at him. "You're a nurse. You can help."

"I've never worked on a gunshot. I was trained on broken bones and the occasional knife wound. Even when I was doing my hours in the hospital I never saw a gunshot. They don't let those people live!" Her voice was panicked despite her attempts to calm herself. Looking into the eyes of the man who had saved her, she shook her head. "I can't do this."

"You have to." His hands tightened. "You became a nurse for a reason. You wanted to save people, right? Help the wounded, comfort the sick. You may have even wanted to save the world. Now's your chance."

She closed her eyes, pressing her lips together as she recalled the words she'd recited at her small graduation ceremony. But that had been before... "I—"

"You have to," he said again. His voice was even and sure. "I'll help if I need to, but I can't stand here and let him die without trying to save him."

Opening her eyes, she glanced to the room at the sound of a pained moan. "I'll try."

When she returned to the room she kept her fists clenched so her hands wouldn't shake. Her voice wavered, though, when she asked Seth to find another light. She forced herself to focus, grateful there were at least a few rudimentary supplies she could use.

"The biggest worry is how much blood he's lost. There's a danger of hypovolemic shock." She rattled off the words, on automaton now as she examined the wound. The giant of a man on the bed tensed when she eased a finger into the hole left by the bullet. Giving him an apologetic look, even though he couldn't see it, she felt around, breathing a small sigh of relief. "There aren't any fragments left that I can feel."

Amara glanced down and grew nauseous upon seeing her gloved finger inside the man's shoulder. She drew in a deep breath to calm her nerves, carefully withdrawing her finger. Tearing the glove from her hand she turned to look over the supplies Nikki had brought in, arching a brow. Several of the items had the hospital's name emblazoned on the packaging.

"What do you have to do?" Seth was standing right behind her.

"Clean the wound. I'm going to swab inside to double-check for fragments." Gathering what she would need, she turned back to the bed and glanced to Seth. "Someone may need to hold him."

"Just do it and get it over with."

The deep voice startled her; she'd thought him to be unconscious. Hands trembling, she placed the supplies on the table by the bed. "You're doing just fine. It won't be too long before I'm finished."

He nodded, eyes closing again. Sending up prayers to the God she wasn't sure she still believed in, Amara went to work.

* * *

She was scrubbing her hands. The water pouring from the spigot was steaming, the soap long ago had rinsed away. The brush she used had to hurt. Maybe she was tougher than he'd thought. Or maybe she was too shocked to feel pain.

Watching from the doorway, Seth considered turning and leaving her alone. Instead, he entered the small bathroom when her shoulders began to shake. Just as he touched her arms her hands flailed, sending drops of scalding water onto his face. "Sorry."

Amara plunged her hands under the water again. "How is he?"

"He's coming out of it." He watched her continue to scrub at her hands. Catching her wrists he pulled them out of the water. "Calm down."

"I could have killed him."

"But you didn't." Seth grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her hands, holding it in place as he turned off the water. "You saved his life."

"It could still get infected. Or I may have—"

"Stop." He realized that being harsh with her would do no good. "You did great, Amara. Really." Pulling away the towel he glanced down at her red hands. "Thank you."

"He'll need someone to keep an eye on him. Just in case." When his fingers brushed over hers she pulled away.

"We'll work something out." Her shirt had splatters of blood on it and he hoped she wouldn't notice right away.

"Keep the wound clean. If you can get some, use tea tree oil. It's a natural antibiotic and antiseptic. Clean with peroxide. Don't let him get up and move around too much, because..." She released a breath and looked away. "I'm sure you can figure it out."

"You could stay and help."

"The… There's four of you, right? You seem to have everything under control. He'll be fine."

"Where will you go now?" he asked when she'd turned on the cold water. She pushed her hands beneath the flow for a moment.

"I don't know." Turning off the water, she shook her hands in the basin and reached for the towel. "Everyone at the restaurant saw me leave with him. When he's found dead, they'll think it was me."

"They will," he agreed, leaning in the doorway. "They're probably already questioning people. Do you have any family that can take you in?"

"Just my uncle. But he… He's a soldier." She looked down at her shirt and turned her back to him.

Seth took in the expanse of her back as she removed the shirt. It would do no good to let himself be attracted. Or attached. He had a feeling he already was, though. "Friends? What about the people you went to school with?"

"I think it's obvious I have no one." The shirt hit the floor and she leaned to take one off the hook on the wall. She pulled it on, once more concealing her back, and faced him again. "You don't want me here, Seth."

"Don't I?"

"I'd be dead weight."

"Bullshit. You're a trained nurse."

"I doubt you need the expertise of a nurse on a daily basis." The sweatshirt she'd pulled on was several sizes too big. She began to roll the sleeves up. She looked down, a lock of dark brown hair falling from behind her ear.

"Nikki's pregnant," he said. Just in case she hadn't noticed on her own. The look she gave him told him she'd gathered that fact already. "She cooks and cleans for the three of us – and deals with Dean when he's on a rampage. And she's going to pop soon."

"How soon?" she asked warily.

"A month or two. I don't know. To be honest, it feels like she's been pregnant forever."

Amara smiled. "Okay. So I stay and help her with cooking and cleaning, then when the baby comes I help with that. What's in it for me?"

"Protection," he said softly.

**A/N: Thank you to Nikki, CelticPrincessx3, Lou, Jojo, Anon, charmedbyortonbarrett, ThatGirl54, and dashinginconverse for the reviews! :)**

**Also a special thank you to DixieWildflower for her help with the medical stuff. If it's anything more than a Band-Aid or some aspirin it's over my head. **


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

A large crack awakened Amara from her fitful sleep. Rolling out of the bed, she drew the covers with her as a makeshift shield. Through the cracks in the boards at the window she saw flashes of light. Had the soldiers found them?

As she tiptoed across the cold floor, her heart was in her throat. She had no idea where the exit was; Seth hadn't shown her an escape route. She doubted she would be able to get out. But she would try.

Another boom rattled the building and she darted into the hallway. It was dark, too dark to find her way. Each step was echoed by more rumbling. Why wasn't anyone coming after her? Had she been forgotten?

She felt her way along the wall, holding her breath the entire time. She could hear voices. Reaching the point where the hall branched off she stopped. Listening.

A flash of light went over her and she screamed in fright. No. She wouldn't be taken again.

She ran blindly the way she'd come, painfully aware of someone following. The covers were dropped and she halfheartedly hoped they would be a deterrent.

"Amara, stop!"

A pair of hands seized her just as she recognized the voice. She continued to struggle, until she was turned and saw who it was.

"It's Seth. Okay? You're safe." He had dropped his flashlight several feet away and it cast an eerie glow on his face, enhanced by the hair that nearly reached his shoulders. His hands still grasped her shoulders, their grip loosening slightly. "You're safe."

She began to cry. Knees buckling with the sudden rush of relief, she grabbed at his arms. "The noise. It woke me up and I thought…" She didn't dare finish the thought. Focused now, she could tell that it was a storm.

"It's okay." Pulling one hand away he brushed her hair behind her ear and held it there. "I probably should have had Nikki stay with you to make sure you were settled."

"I'm fine." Maybe if she said it often enough it would be true. Drawing in a calming breath, she became aware of his hand on the side of her neck.

"Everything okay?"

Amara recognized Dean's voice and felt even more foolish when she saw that he was coming down the hall. The beam of his flashlight bobbed and then another was added to it, both trained on the wall behind her. Seth's hand drew away from her neck, the other still on her shoulder.

"Yeah," he said, giving her shoulder a squeeze before letting his hand drop. "She got spooked by the storm."

It hadn't been just the storm, but she left it at that. Dean's face came into view. A toothpick dangled from the corner of his mouth, her sheet and blanket draped over his shoulder. His hair was a mess and he looked tired. When he gave her a quick smile she became aware that she was still gripping Seth's arms. Letting them slide away, she looked down at the oversized t-shirt she wore.

"You dropped this."

"Thank you." She took them, wrapping them around herself. Wanting the focus to be off her, she cleared her throat. "How's Roman?"

"I checked on him a little while ago. He said his shoulder burns like a motherfucker but he's fine. He took some pain pills so he's probably knocked out by now."

She wanted to go see him, as much to check on him as to assure herself he was still alive, but Seth's hand was on her shoulder again. The glare of the flashlights moved away and she relaxed a little.

Dean looked from her to Seth and then back again, a smirk playing at his lips. "Well. I'm going back to bed. I'll leave you to do…whatever."

"Fucker," Seth muttered under his breath as his friend walked away.

Dean's laugh echoed down the hall.

Amara clutched the blanket close as she followed Seth's lead. The storm had calmed. Now she could hear the torrent of rain on the roof. As they neared her room, though, another crack of thunder seemed to shake the building on its foundation. Without thinking, she grabbed his arm.

"It's okay." His voice was gentle. He didn't pull away. Guiding her into her room, he placed the flashlight on the small table.

The room had once been an office. She knew that the other bedrooms had been offices as well and wondered which was his. And why he hadn't been in it. Why had he and Dean been at the far end of the building?

Why were they hiding from seemingly everyone and everything?

Keeping the questions silent, she watched him in the glow of the flashlight. He eased the covers from around her and placed them on the bed. Oddly, he still wore a glove on his left hand. Her cheeks grew warm as she recalled the feel of his callused fingers on her skin. Grateful for the low light, she approached the bed.

He turned on the small lamp then pushed his hair back.

"You think you'll be alright now?" he asked.

"Yeah. I just wasn't expecting a storm. Or the nightmare."

Seth looked at her askance. "Nightmare?"

Shit, she'd said that aloud. "It was nothing."

"Obviously not if it upset you."

Amara sighed, nudging the jeans and panties she'd discarded earlier beneath the bed. "It was just a slow-motion replay of…him."

He was making the bed for her. Why was he making the bed for her? He drew the covers back and stepped to the side. "I'm sorry."

"Why? You can't control my dreams."

"Too bad." He looked down at her when she sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm right next door. In case you need me for anything."

She raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "Anything."

Maybe she was just overly grateful to him for saving her. Maybe she just wanted to show a fraction of the tenderness he'd shown her. Or maybe she had gone crazy. Either way, she caught his wrist and tugged him down. Just a kiss, she told herself as her lips pushed against his.

Just a kiss, she repeated firmly when he sighed against her lips. She caught a whiff of minty toothpaste before his lips slid over hers. There was that tenderness again, coupled now with a curl of heat stretching through her body from the pit of her belly.

She parted her lips beneath his, wanting – needing – just a little bit more. With each sweep of his tongue the memories of her nightmare slipped away, taking with them the memory of how she'd come to be in an old abandoned school.

He eased his wrist free of her grasp then caught her hand with his, guiding it to rest on his shoulder. Feeling his muscles contract and release beneath her fingertips she shivered. If he wanted, he could overpower her.

Even though she'd known him less than twelve hours, she knew he wouldn't.

His hands framed her face, fingers sliding in her hair as his thumbs caressed her cheeks. He hadn't touched her anywhere else but she felt as though she'd been dropped into a sauna. Suddenly, she wanted more.

He was the first to pull away, drawing the kiss out into several more. Sliding his bare thumb over her bottom lip, he met her eyes.

"I needed that," she whispered. No, she corrected silently when he nodded, she'd needed him. She still did. "Does that fall in the 'anything' category?"

Seth chuckled, pressing another kiss to her lips. "Absolutely."

* * *

Despite the cool air, he was sweating. It ran in rivulets down his chest and back. It dripped along his temples. He brushed his arm over his forehead to keep the perspiration from trickling into his eyes, aware of the echoes of his rapid footsteps.

The school – no matter what ever became of the building it would always be a school to him – was just ahead. He cut into the vacant lot next door, not feeling the overgrown grass whip at his bare arms. The chain-link fence rattled when he lunged at it. Gasping at the strain in his left arm, he pushed himself further, ignoring the pain that radiated from his hand upward. At the top he rested for several beats, counting his harsh breaths. Boosting himself over, he ran for the back of the building.

His steps were loud as he climbed the fire escape. The clang of his shoes against the rusting metal was obscenely loud to his ears. When he reached the roof he dropped to his knees, keeping his breathing deep and even to lower his heart rate.

By the time his body was calm the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. Using the hem of his shirt to wipe the last of the sweat from his face, Seth turned to watch the first hints of sunlight.

It was almost possible to forget the horrors of the world when he watched the sun rise. The main reason for doing his workouts so early was so he could witness the dawn. Too soon the city would be wide awake.

He released a huff of breath as he sat, leaning against the old air conditioning unit. He'd pushed himself a bit too much this time. Massaging his left hand, he winced. Telling himself it was acting up because of the way he'd slept, he tensed when he heard the door bang open.

"Thought you were back."

"Yeah, a few minutes ago." He settled back, thirsty but not enough to go down and get a drink. "Things been quiet here?"

"I guess. Just got out of bed." Dean was carrying a thermos and took a swig.

"How's Roman?"

"Seems alright. He'll probably be up and around by the end of the day." Dean propped one shoulder against the metal frame and yawned. "Cray fucker. I'd ham it up as long as I could."

"Yeah, but he doesn't have Nikki to take his mind off the pain."

"The poor bastard." Taking a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, he shook one out and clamped it between his lips.

"He said last night that once he's healed up he's going to head out." Seth picked at one of the seams of his glove.

"Where to?" Dean asked. A plume of smoke followed the question.

"He didn't say."

Then again, Roman didn't say much. He stuck to the quiet giant stereotype, giving as little information as possible when asked a direct question. Even though he'd been with them for months, Seth still had no idea where he'd come from. He fit in easily enough, doing his share of the work and kicking in his share of credits when he could. He had admitted one late night that most of his family had been killed during the war. What he was searching for? No one knew.

The sky grew brighter, sunlight reflecting off the glass structures that had sprouted up in the past year. Seth thought of what had once been the tallest building. A high-rise stood there now, its steel and glass having replaced the old stone. If he closed his eyes he'd see the city as he'd known it, not the skeletal buildings and remnants of the past.

"Is Nikki up?" he asked after a few moments of silence had passed.

"She's been up for a while. Her back's bugging her. I tried the usual home remedies but none of them worked." Dean took a final drag off his cigarette then dropped it to the gravel-strewn roof. Crushing it beneath his shoe, he lifted his thermos for another swig.

"What… No, forget it, I don't want to know." Knowing Dean as he did, he was sure they weren't tried and true remedies at all.

"It was just a massage. Get your head outta the gutter."

"One never knows with you."

Dean sighed, tipping the thermos up to get the last bit of his drink before setting it down. "Then I told her we could fuck and that'd take her mind off it but that didn't go over too well."

Laughing now, Seth finally forgot about the pain in his left arm. "You asshole. How does she put up with you?"

"She loves me." Dean smiled. In a rare show of emotion, it wasn't sarcastic.

"Obviously, if she's carrying your demon spawn."

"Yeah." He kicked a pebble across the roof then sat next to Seth. "We've been over this before, right? You think it's crazy that we're having a kid now."

"I think I'm used to the idea." When they'd first announced it, he'd been floored. They barely had enough credits to feed themselves, how were they going to take care of a baby?

Now, though, he knew they would make it. Somehow. He'd witnessed how Nikki's pregnancy had calmed down his usually volatile friend. His reckless friend now thought before acting. Most of the time. And he'd seen the excitement in Dean's eyes each time he felt the baby kick or flipped through the pregnancy book.

They were starting a family. Seth had once thought that _he_ would be the one settling down and having kids before Dean ever found one woman and stayed with her. It was exciting. It was sobering.

"Anyway," Seth began, giving his head a shake to clear it of morose thoughts that he didn't want to face at the moment, "I hope she can get some more rest now. Especially since she has someone to share the work."

"Yes, the lovely Amara." Dean smirked. "She seems nice."

"I guess." He shrugged, keeping his gaze off of Dean. "We don't really know her yet."

"You know her enough to tuck her back into bed after she wakes up in the middle of the night."

"Really? You're gonna crack jokes?"

"Not a joke." Dean sounded offended. "It's the truth. You don't have to say it, man. I can tell you dig her."

"Please," Seth scoffed.

"I've known you since before your balls dropped. We're like brothers." Dean lightly slapped his shoulder. "You knew I was into Nikki the first time you saw me with her."

Seth groaned. "The first time I saw the two of you together you had your hand down her jeans in the back seat."

"Did you get your hand down her pants last night?"

"She was almost raped, Dean."

"And your point is…?"

"Don't you think she might be a little shaken up by that?"

"Not if you approached her right. Use that gentle, poet's soul the girls used to go crazy over." Dean lit another cigarette. "Tell her that her eyes are blue like the sea or whatever."

"They're not blue. They're green." Seth continued picking at the seam on his glove. "Dark green, and they fade into gold around the pupils. Almost like a leaf that's starting to turn in the fall."

"Christ on a cracker. See what I mean? Women eat that shit up." He flicked ash into his palm and blew it away. "Say that to her and she'll be eating out of your hand."

"I don't remember you ever saying things like that to Nikki."

"She's not the poetry type. I think she'd faint if I started telling her some flowery shit about her eyes." Dean crushed his cigarette even though he'd only smoked half. "So riddle me this. Why did you bring her back last night?"

"To help Roman." Seth stretched his arms over his head. He needed to shower. Then he could grab a bite to eat and take Nikki grocery shopping.

"Bull. Shit." His friend hopped to his feet and grabbed his thermos. "What's the real reason."

"Come on, Dean," he grunted.

"Tell me. I won't breathe a word to anyone. Unless Nikki asks me. I've never been able to lie to her. And since she's gotten pregnant she can tell even quicker when I'm lying. Plus, she has no problem throwing something at me and blaming it on her hormones and my stupidity." Dean rubbed the back of his head, and Seth remembered Nikki hitting him with a wooden spoon a few days before. He waved his hand. "Spill."

"I don't know." What if his reasons were stupid? Or selfish? Dean would have no trouble telling him either way. But there was no diverting the man once he'd latched onto a subject. If he continued to brush it off he would be pestered for the rest of the day. "I guess part of me is being alone," he finally admitted. "You've got Nikki, and the baby's coming. I got nothing. Nobody. Y'know?"

"Man…" Dean frowned. "Nikki and the kid won't stop me from loving you like a kid brother."

"I know. But it won't be the same." He released a sigh. "I sound like some bratty teenager now."

"Nah, I get what you mean. Go on."

"She's alone too. She doesn't have anyone who can take her in. Her uncle's a fucking solder. I couldn't just leave her on the street to get picked up by those bastards. She would have taken the fall and said she'd killed Heyman."

"Uh-huh." Dean sat down again, tilting his head. "So you wanted a friend and picked up someone who can't run away. You couldn't have found a puppy?"

"For fuck's sake. I knew telling you would be a bad idea." He started to get up but a hand grabbed his arm and jerked him back down.

"I'm fucking kidding, Seth." Dean's expression was serious. "Go on."

"She's lost. You can look at her and tell she needs someone that can keep her safe." He massaged his palm again. "And, dammit, maybe I see something of myself in her."

There was a long silence following his statement. Dean rubbed his chin, looking out at the city that was starting to wake up. "This something of yourself…"

"Yeah?" Seth began to roll his eyes. He knew a joke was coming. It was Dean's way. Thoughtful and introspective up to a point, then wisecracking to ease the tension.

"Is it in her from behind? Or is she on top?"

"Fuck you," Seth groaned, punching his friend in the shoulder even as he began to laugh. He felt better now and was grateful. Dean never failed to cheer him up.

* * *

"The new nurses are here, Doctor."

The delectable cheeks bared for him wiggled. Still seated in the chair behind his desk, he tapped his chin. "Stay quiet," he instructed before leaning to turn on the intercom. "Did all of them come in?"

"All but one." The disembodied voice of his secretary filled the room.

"Which one?" he asked. Eyes on the black garter straps that stretched over lightly tanned skin, he palmed his length. It was still damp from her mouth. With a sigh he pulled the file from beneath her and rested it on the small of her back. He stood, flipping open the file as he waited for an answer.

"Amara Turner."

"Where the hell is she?" he demanded. His eyes scanned the pages until he came to her picture. He vaguely remembered her face, the way she had smiled when he'd spoken to her. But most of all he recalled that she hadn't seemed outraged when he'd touched her. It had been a week but the memory of cupping her backside when she'd bent over to pick up something was still vivid. He began stroking his cock, gaze moving to the woman waiting on his desk.

"Striker is trying to locate her now. There was no answer at her home number so he's sending someone to check."

"If she hasn't been found in an hour try her emergency contact."

"Yes sir."

"I'll be in to look them over after I finish this bit of work on my desk." The file was pushed to the side and his hand came down on one bared ass cheek. Smirking at the squeal that resulted, he switched off the intercom.

"She's important to you? This new nurse?"

"Not really." Not yet. He had plans for her, though. And as long as she behaved, she would be important.

"You want her to be, though." Her English was heavily accented despite being born in what had once been California. She played the part of an émigré well, though, and as long as it suited him he would never give away her true roots. Or her true hair color.

"Perhaps." He nudged her thighs apart. Not bothering to check if she was ready, for she always was, he pushed into her. He gripped her ass, fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust his hips slowly. Feeling her skin begin to tear from the force he hissed, her cries of pleasure and pain a distant whisper to him, he let his hips move faster. He pounded into her with such force the desk began to rock and then he was pulling out. "Finish me off," he demanded, breathless, as he fell back in his chair.

She turned and knelt before him, obedient to his demands. As always.

When she finished he put his slacks to rights, absentmindedly patting her cheek. He picked up the file again, once more flipping to the smiling face he wanted to know well. Tapping the glossy photo with the tip of his finger, he smirked.

They'd find her. He'd see to her punishment. By the time he was through, she'd know never to displease him again.

**A/N: Nikki, ConchaaRex, lovencrazy86, Jojo, CelticPrincessx3, ThatGirl54, and Lou are supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious! Love you all! :)**


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

"Well?"

Amara leaned to rinse her hands in the sink. "So far it seems to be healing up nicely. As long as we keep it clean and the stitches don't pop you should be back to your normal self in no time."

The large man in the bed chuckled. It was a mirthless sound. "What's normal?"

"Whatever you want it to be, I suppose." The sink was too low for her to wash her hands comfortably. Remembering that it was a school and had been designed for children, she sighed and turned off the water. "Let me know if it shows sign of infection. Swelling around the stitches, intense burning, that sort of thing."

When he remained silent, she turned, managing a hopeful smile. "You don't have to stay in bed all the time. If you want to you can get up and move around. Just don't go reaching above your head or lifting anything heavy."

"I'll keep that in mind." Roman eased his arm through the sleeve of his t-shirt. He made no sound of pain but she saw the way his jaw clenched. Without a word she moved to help him.

"Do you need anything?" she asked, smoothing the shirt down. Following her training, she adjusted the sheet and blanket over his lap and made sure his pillow wasn't applying strain on his neck.

"Nikki's bringing my breakfast soon."

"Anything else? Are there any books around here? Or puzzles? Something to pass the time."

"I left my book in the living room." Seeing her confusion, he waved one hand. "The old teacher's lounge. That's what they call it."

They. Not we. Didn't he consider himself part of the group? "Oh. What is it? I'll get it for you."

"_Harry Potter_. The first one." He cleared his throat, gaze on his hands. "It was either that or _Green Eggs and Ham_."

"I'll check on your breakfast while I'm in there."

"Miss Turner," he called after her when she was almost to the door. She turned, saw his lips pull into a hesitant smile. "Thank you."

Giving him a nod, she left the room. The hall was empty and the shoes Nikki had loaned her squeaked on the floor. It was the kind of tile that made shoes squeak no matter what. Her own elementary school's floors had been the same. On rainy days the noise had been louder, drowning out any conversation in the halls when more than three students were walking at once.

She found the book on the cluttered coffee table. Judging from the scrap of paper between the pages, he was nearly finished. She wondered if she would be able to find the next in the series. From the kitchen came the rattle of dishes. She ventured to the doorway, peering in to see Nikki pushing scrambled eggs onto a plate. A tray on the table was already filled with food; toast, bacon, fried potatoes, and a large glass of juice. There was coffee as well, and a small dish of butter.

"You're up," Nikki blurted when she turned around.

"Yeah, long enough to check on Roman. Good morning."

"Morning. How is he?" Nikki pushed the plate onto the tray and plucked toast out of the toaster to add to the pile.

"He'll be okay. He doesn't seem the type to enjoy sitting around while he heals, though."

"He's not. I don't think I've seen him sit still for longer than an hour since I met him." Nikki pulled the tray closer to the edge of the table. "I'm going to take this to him then fix breakfast for everybody else."

Amara tucked the books under one arm and lifted the tray before Nikki could. "I'll take it. You sit down and have a cup of juice.

"I knew I liked you." Nikki rubbed the small of her back as she got a cup from the stack on the counter.

When she returned, Nikki was seated at the table, feet propped in an empty chair. Amara noted the food set out on the counter and pushed up her sleeves.

"How far along are you?"

"Just over eight months. I think."

"How long has it been since you saw a doctor?"

"A while. My fourth month." Nikki was moving one hand in small circles over her abdomen. "She said on my next visit they would chip him so I didn't go back."

"You know it's a boy?" Amara asked, hoping the other woman wouldn't see the way she rubbed the side of her neck. She thought of the procedure she'd witnessed in training. She doubted she would ever forget the long, thick needle piercing the pregnant woman's abdomen, or the woman's painful sobs. Chipping in-utero was an arduous process that many weren't aware of until their obstetrician brought it up.

"No. Dean's hoping, though." She sighed. "I just want it to be healthy."

"How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted. I haven't had a good night's sleep in ages. I never have to pee unless I just sat down. I get leg cramps. The morning sickness is gone but now I get heartburn. The guys will say something that's not mean at all and I still take it the wrong way and go batshit crazy. Then I feel bad and start to cry." Nikki sighed. "I'm a complete fucking mess."

"No, you're just pregnant."

"I'm so glad I have a woman around to talk to about this stuff though. The guys… They try to be understanding but as soon as I mention something remotely gross they tune me out."

"Well, I've never been pregnant, but it takes a lot to gross me out." Amara watched the bacon start to curl in the pan. "What kind of eggs would you like?"

Dean came in as she was fixing Nikki's plate. "Morning," he drawled, giving her a nod while pouring coffee into his thermos. "Hot damn, looks like I'm just in time."

"You are." She held out the plate and smiled. "Serve Nikki while I get her some milk."

He grunted in surprise, but didn't comment as he put the plate in front of his girlfriend. From the corner of her eye Amara watched as he kissed Nikki's cheek. With one hand on her belly, he was the picture of a happy expectant father. He nudged her feet out of the way and sat down, pulling her feet into his lap. "I usually get served first."

Nikki already had a mouthful of bacon and merely smiled. She gestured to Amara, giving a little shrug before indicating her belly. Dean drummed his fingers on her leg, waiting, and she rolled her eyes. "I'm pregnant, you idiot."

"No shit? Were you planning on telling me anytime soon?"

"I figured I'd drop the news when the first shitty diaper came along."

Amara fought a smile as she handed over the glass of milk. These two were going to be comical parents. She listened to their playful bickering, wondering how the woman had the patience to keep from snapping at the man. She doubted she would have been able to do so. "How many eggs do you want, Dean?"

"Four, over easy." The bickering had stopped. He was massaging her ankles. "Eight pieces of bacon, two slices of toast."

"Ahem, can you say please?" Nikki prodded.

"She asked."

"So you don't think manners are important? Your child can hear you, you know."

Dean bent over, head close to Nikki's belly. "Son, your mom's fucking nuts. Amara, may I please have what I already told you I'd like to have?"

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "Sure."

"Thank you. Happy now?"

"I guess."

"So you need to rest a lot?" he asked after a few moments had passed. "Why didn't you say something before?"

"Who would have fried your four eggs and eight pieces of bacon?" Nikki's voice was gentle, giving the impression that if it meant his happiness and comfort she would do anything.

"I could have lived on cereal."

"Dean. You hate cereal."

"But I love you."

There it was, Amara thought, keeping her gaze on the next batch of bacon. It had been obvious the two loved one another. Otherwise they'd have killed each other long before she'd met them. It was nice to witness him saying the words though. She had a feeling such moments were rare. She heard Nikki murmur the words back. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw them share a sweet kiss and quickly looked away.

"After breakfast I'll get to work on that crib thing."

"The bassinet? You got one?"

"Seth picked one up when he went to get groceries. You were asleep when he left."

"Yeah. He should have woke me up. Where is it?"

They continued to chat, a typical expectant couple enjoying breakfast. Amara felt like an eavesdropper as she cooked, hearing personal snippets they probably didn't realize they were sharing. Nikki liked to read before sleeping. Dean was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Both were cover hogs. Someone named Stephen was going to come by that night to check in. Dean hoped he'd know of an offline job he could get. Nikki hoped he would have news of someone named Phil.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Nikki asked. Her plate was empty, her feet still in Dean's lap as he began wolfing down his bacon.

"There aren't many eggs left. I'll wait for Seth to eat first. I'll be alright on bacon and toast." To prove her point Amara picked up a slice of bacon and began to chew.

Seth. Where was he? She hadn't seen him at all since the night before. It had taken a long time to go back to sleep, which she blamed on the storm. The temptation to go into his room for company had been strong but she'd resisted. Crazy though it sounded to her, she wanted more.

She busied herself with cleaning up the dishes, waving off Nikki's offer to help. The couple had ceased talking so Dean could eat, and when she looked over she saw them kissing again. With them distracted, she slipped out to collect Roman's tray. He was reading, barely glancing up when she gathered the dishes. Spying the pack of medical supplies she grabbed that as well.

Entering the kitchen, she stopped abruptly when she saw Seth. He was leaning against the counter, cup of coffee in one hand, slice of toast in the other.

"Morning," he greeted.

"Morning," she echoed, placing the tray on the table. She slipped the pack into an empty chair.

"Sleep good?"

She knew what he was really asking. "I did. No more nightmares."

"Good."

His hair was loose, the locks swinging with each small movement he made. She took in the sweatpants, tank top, and sneakers as she placed Roman's dishes in the sink. The glove was still on his left hand. Running water into the sink, she watched the steam curl. "How can there be hot water and electricity here? Everything's supposed to be online isn't it?"

"We have a few friends that help us out." Eyes still on the steam, she gasped when he lightly cupped her upper arms. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she whispered. She turned off the water. "How about you? Did you sleep?"

"Off and on."

"Where did Nikki and Dean go?"

"They're putting together the bassinet."

She nodded, commenting that they were a cute couple. Leaving the dishes to soak, she turned to face him. "Does this feel awkward to you?"

"A little." His smile was brief, his hands still on her arms. "Almost like the morning after."

"Well there's only one cure for that," she murmured. When his hands slid to her waist she didn't object, stepping into him as though she'd done it a thousand times. She didn't bother questioning her motives, or even his. She craved the comfort his kiss could provide, the safety she knew she would feel in his arms.

"Oh, much better," he agreed. Eyes already closing in anticipation, she wrinkled her nose at the tickling of his hair on her cheeks. Then his lips were on hers and all she could do was hold onto him.

Gleeful to forget everything else, she parted her lips, tongue meeting his so forcefully his fingers dug into her waist. Then he was lifting her up, resting her on the counter. Heat curled within her, starting in her chest and spreading outwards. His lips and tongue encouraged it. When she tilted her head he made a sound of approval, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth. Amara gasped, a wanton need beginning to take over as he pressed a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"How far?" he asked, one hand moving to rest on her knee. "Tell me how far I can go without scaring you away."

Touched, she reached to push the hair from his face, lightly tracing his neat beard. The heat and need were still there but she realized she could wait for them to be sated. "You're asking for boundaries?"

"Unless you want to have sex right here… Yeah." He kissed the corner of her mouth again then raised his head, causing her hands to fall to his shoulders again. "I didn't help you last night so I could hurt you, Amara."

How very noble, she thought with a small smile. "Okay. Boundaries."

"The ball's in your court right now." He squeezed her knee.

"I guess knocking it into yours is out of the question?" she ventured, laughing when he rolled his eyes. "I don't know, Seth. Really. What do you say we just take things as they come? I can't know my limits until they're tested."

"Fair enough. Just tell me, okay? I'll stop whatever it is if it's making you uncomfortable."

"Thank you." She leaned to give him a kiss. Not minding when his arms slid around her, she broke the kiss and allowed her head to rest on his shoulder.

Spying the strap of the medical supply pack, she felt her stomach plummet with dread.

* * *

"I need you to do something."

Seth nodded, helping her off the counter. He had a feeling their session of kisses was over for the time being. Reaching for his cup, he frowned when he realized it was cold. "Okay."

He expected a request for clothes, or perhaps something from her apartment. He knew better than to make promises and was prepared to say he would try his best. Turning to look at her, he saw her rooting through a familiar backpack. When she placed a scalpel, gauze, and other implements on the table he raised an eyebrow.

"I need you to remove my chip."

"Chip?" he repeated, thoughts of refilling his coffee gone. "You're chipped? Why didn't you say something?"

"It's not activated yet. I didn't even think of it until Nikki mentioned—"

"How do you know?" He dropped his empty cup into the sink with a clatter. "Christ, they could have turned it on—"

"They vibrate twice when they're activated." She stepped to the side, keeping the table between them. "I know it hasn't been turned on because it hasn't vibrated."

Seth ran his hands through his hair, looking at her in horror. "They could have come up with one that doesn't."

"They have already. Those are the ones implanted on fetuses. I had to sit through six months of the history of chipping, going back to the microchips they used to put on pets. But these are different. When it was first proposed as a way of keeping track of everyone, a soft-hearted commissioner insisted the subjects know when it was activated and deactivated." She took a deep breath, rubbing the side of her neck. "Two short vibrations mean the chip is now online and every movement is tracked. One long vibration means it's either malfunctioned or has been taken offline. I've had this thing in my body for almost a year. Please trust me when I say I would know if they'd turned it on."

"Why didn't they turn it on when you first had it put in?"

"You make it sound like I volunteered to have it done." Still rubbing her neck, Amara shook her head. "The functionality of some hospital equipment interferes with the chips. Because we were in and out of all areas of the hospital in training, we were told our chips would be activated upon certification."

"When is that?"

"Today at noon."

"What happens if you're not there?"

"I don't know. If they haven't connected me with the dead guy in that shack, they'll probably have my chip turned on so they can track me down. If you miss certification, you're jailed for thirty days and have to retake all your classes."

"When did they ink you?" he asked, looking at the small red cross he'd seen the night before. The symbol of medical personnel. Nurses had the tattoos on their necks, doctors had them on the backs of their hands.

"Last week, when they put in the chips."

"Where is the chip?"

"Here," she said, moving her hand and pointing to the left side of her neck. He moved closer, noting the faint scar just below her jawbone. Beneath the scar he could see the pulse thrumming in her throat.

"I have to cut into your fucking neck?"

"You don't have to. If you don't want to, I can leave. I don't want them finding you. I'd do it myself but…"

He knew the guilt of letting her walk out would plague him for the rest of his life. And beyond, knowing his luck. Gingerly touching the scar, he could just feel the outline of a small rectangle. He glanced at the gleaming scalpel on the table and wondered what he would do if he ended up killing her. What if he cut too deep? What if his hand slipped? How could he be expected to slice into her neck?

But what if he didn't. She would be tracked down. Or she'd remove it herself and be unsuccessful. Or worse, hurt herself. Still, they would find her and she'd be punished for what had happened in that grimy shack.

He didn't like either scenario.

A heavy weight in the pit of his stomach, he gave a jerky nod. "Okay," he whispered.

She looked up at him with the same look of wary trust she'd given him the night before. When he'd offered her water.

"I'll do it."

**A/N: I seem to be making a habit of cliffhangers. Oops. Apologies for the delay between updates!**

**Jojo, lovencrazy86, Nikki, ConchaaRex, ThatGirl54, CelticPrincessx3, and Cookie D – thank you all for the wonderful reviews. Hope you're still enjoying the fic. Love to you all! :)**


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